Aftermath
by anon1993
Summary: Clarke is trying to survive alone in the woods a few weeks after she left Camp Jaha. Bellamy is figuring out how to lead without her. But with new dangers setting in, he can't leave her out in the woods alone through the winter. Bellarke slow burn.
1. Chapter 1

**Hey guys! I hope you guys like the story, I have had a lot of fun writing it. The first few chapters are just set up for the rest of the story, but I promise, eventually Bellamy and Clarke are reunited. :)**

She stared at her small campfire. She didn't risk building the flames up too high. There was still a lot about Earth that they didn't know. She couldn't risk attracting too much attention. Not that she was risking very much. She didn't have much to risk.

Clarke sighed and took the final bite of the only fish she had managed to catch today. Fishing, apparently, wasn't her strong suit. She hadn't gotten much practice up on the Ark. Some of the other kids from the 100 had picked it up as if they had been doing it their whole lives, they could feed all of Camp Jaha.

A stab of pain lanced through her entire system, she physically cringed from the shock of it and instinctively shifted her thoughts away. Everything related to her past life hurt. What she had done. The people she had hurt. Killed. The people she had left behind.

"I bear it so they don't have to," she remind myself and take a steadying breathe. Clarke didn't know how many times she had repeated those words to herself since she had left Camp Jaha. Since she had said them for the first time to Bellamy. Again, a stabbing longing caused her to consciously change her train of thoughts.

She stood up and dusted off her pants. She headed into the trees to check her security line the she had circled her small camp with. It was really just some line with cans attached, any human could easily get around it. Hopefully though, if any animal tried to sneak up on her she would hear it in time to at least get a fighting chance. It was a long shot, but there wasn't much else she could do to keep herself guarded. She had to sleep at some point. After tightening the lines, she went back to her fire. It was starting to die. The nights were starting to get colder, which made her yearn to keep the flames burning throughout the night. But, again, she couldn't risk it, not while she was sleeping. So, instead she laid out her small bedroll. Tomorrow, she would concentrate on finding a more permanent place to live, somewhere that could last her the winter.

Clarke pulled out the last of her water for the day and splashed it on her face. The last remnants she dumped on the fire, effectively dousing it. The darkness washed over her completely, blinding her. She sat still and waited for her eyes to adjust to the surrounding forest. As she waited she listened to the creaks of the trees and the distant sounds of animals. So far, most of the animals she had met were relatively harmless. But there were a few exceptions. And when she was alone in the dark, her mind always remembered exactly what those exceptions can do. Slowly, her eyes adjusted and she laid down on her bed roll, ignoring the rocks that dug into her back. She tried to focus on what she had to do tomorrow, gather roots, find somewhere to live. But that distraction tactic only worked for so long.

The nights were the worst. She couldn't stop her mind from wandering. And every time she closed her eyes she remembered the way he looked at her when she had told him she didn't want him to come with her. When she had abandoned him when he was willing to give up everything for her.

"I'm sorry," she whispered to the wind. She hoped he knew. Selfishly, she hoped that he forgave her. She hoped she hadn't hurt him too much by leaving. But most of all, she hoped she did the right thing when she walked away. She didn't want to put him, put any of them, through watching her suffer with what she had done. She didn't deserve their comfort and they didn't deserve her pain. She knew she had to pay her penance, but it didn't change the fact that it felt like she was getting ripped to pieces every moment she was away from those she loved at Camp Jaha. She needed them. She needed him. She wasn't sure how to put herself back together now that he wasn't there to help her figure out exactly how she should start. But this was the one time she wouldn't let him be her partner. She would bear it so he didn't have to.

**Please let me know how you think I did on portraying Clarke. I feel pretty confident seeing as this was my first time writing her, but I would love feedback. :)**


	2. Camp Jaha

Bellamy set down the logs he had been hauling inside. The pile had been growing over the past few weeks. Hopefully this would be enough to last them for a while. They had enough to worry about with winter coming, like feeding the entire camp.

"Bellamy," Abby called as she walked up to him, "Andrew found some breaks in the fence this morning. We are not sure what caused it, I would appreciate it if you would look into. Maybe it was something you ran into before."

Bellamy nodded, "I'll head straight there."

"Also, I need some of the kids to help with the organization and distribution of supplies for the winter. They are getting overrun over there with all the work, and they don't know the woods as well," she glanced off in the direction of the woods.

Bellamy followed her gaze, wondering if she thought about the same thing he did when he looked out there. If she thought of the same person. But he didn't say anything about that. It would hurt her too much. So, instead, he nodded, "I'll get Celeste and Brian to help out. They were pretty good in the woods. And Celeste has been volunteering over there already, so she should know what they need."

She touched his arm, "Thanks Bellamy," she turned to leave, but only got a few steps. "And I mean for everything, I don't think we could do this without you."

Bellamy didn't respond, just nodded and turned to instruct the others helping him to finish up moving the wood into the camp and then rest for the night. "Good job today, you guys," he said to them then started to head to the find Andrew. As he walked he looked around the camp at the bustle that constantly teemed throughout their home. The remaining 47 were interspersed throughout members of the Ark. Whenever one saw him they would nod or smile in acknowledgement. He made sure to return every one. Those left of the 100 respected Abby as chancellor, but these were kids who had never respected the chancellor when they were in space. Why would they start now? There was no question who they actually looked to for leadership. He made sure to do his best by them, and all the members of the Ark, but it sure as hell had been a whole lot easier when Clarke had been in this position with him. He frowned at his thoughts and cursed himself for being sentimental. She chose to leave. She had her own shit to deal with. He was on his own now.

Andrew jogged up to his side. Andrew was just a kid, probably only 15. He was not one of the 100, just the kid of one of the guys in charge of building the fence, but had fallen in with them quickly. He had a mop of curly brown hair that always fell into his large brown eyes, so he was constantly having to push it back. It just had the effect of making him look younger. "Bell!" he yelled, even though he was close enough that he didn't need to, "We were outside working on the fence and we found-"

"Abby told me," Bellamy cut him off, "Show me where it is."

Andrew steered them in the direction of the gate, "Man, Bellamy, I don't know what did this, but I really don't think I actually want to know."

"What do you mean?" Bellamy frowned and unconsciously quickened his steps.

"The damage it did to the fence," he whistled, "it's pretty crazy. And these fences aren't weak. Reinforced steel from the drop ship and Ark. I don't know what could have done the kind of damage this thing did."

Bellamy could spot something now, as they followed the fence around to the back of the ark. It didn't look like much at this distance, just a darker marring along the slightly damaged and worn metal that made up the fence. But as he got closer, he saw the kind of damage Andrew was talking about.

"What the hell…?" Bellamy muttered as he kneeled down next to the damage, ignoring Andrew's rambling. It spanned a few feet up from the ground, but most of the damage was at the base where it looked like something had tried to dig under the fence, luckily the fences went a few feet below ground level- a precaution some of the council had thought was more work than it was worth. He was glad for it now, because whatever this thing was it wasn't something they wanted loose in their camp. He wasn't sure if it was one animal or a group of them. The damage was something out of a graphic novel, with claw marks scratching deep into the metal. There was even blood smeared here and there. This animal had been determined to get in.

"I mean what kind of animal is strong enough to do that kind of damage to the metal?" Andrew had been prattling on this entire time, trying to figure out what this was.

"Andrew, stop talking," Bellamy muttered to him.

Immediately, Andrew shut his mouth, "Sorry," he said sheepishly.

Bellamy looked up at the Ark. This part of the fence shielded the back of the Ark. There wasn't anything back here except storage, some spare canvas for tents, metal to be melted down, a shed with some spare clothes and blankets, things along those lines. No one lived back here, or had any reason to even go back there after it got dark. No one would have heard anyone trying to break into this part of the fence after nightfall. Was that just a coincidence?

"Thanks Andrew," Bellamy said quietly to him, "Take whatever you need to patch this up, I want it secured before nightfall. Get a couple of your dad's guys to help you."

Andrew frowned, "That's in a few hours."

"Then you better get started," Bellamy started heading to the gate. It was just about time for the council meeting and this was definitely something he needed to bring to their attention.

…

The council was smaller than it had been on the Ark, just made up of 5 people for now- and, unofficially, Bellamy. Abby had invited him to the first one after everything happened with Mount Weather, the first one they had, had on Earth. No one had protested when he kept coming to them. The new members weren't all the original members of the council. Just Kane and Abby. The new additions were Andrew's dad Cedrick, who was in charge of any construction they had going on- most importantly the walls. Sonya was the one in charge of food and supplies. Finally, David Miller was head of security. All titles were unofficial, but these were the people everyone looked to for guidance.

Bellamy took his usual seat at the end of the table, next to David. He was the last to arrive, but it was clear that they had waited for him to start.

"Alright, well, let's start with the most pressing of matters first," Abby sounded tired, but clear as she addressed the council, "I fear that the grounders are going to start becoming a more serious issue. Now that it is clear the truce is null and void, I think we should decide how we are going to proceed."

"Couldn't we just talk to their commander?" Sonya said quietly, she was a small woman with a small voice. But she was kind and fair and had proven to be somewhat of a conscience for the council. Bellamy wasn't sure how she had taken charge enough to get to where she is now. "We could just tell them we don't want war."

Abby nodded, but Kane spoke up, "I think that is a good option, of course. But we need to prepare for if they are not willing to agree to a truce."

"Why are we even bothering with a truce, they betrayed us. They have proven that their word means next to nothing," Cedrick spoke up, his voice rough with anger.

"Then we prepare for that outcome as well," Bellamy muttered from where he sat cleaning his nails with his knife.

"What would you suggest Bellamy?" Abby looked at him earnestly. It unnerved him how much she looked like Clarke in these moments.

He glanced at David, who had become his strongest ally on most issues. "I think we prepare for the worst. Put extra reinforcements on the fences-"

"We are already doing that," Cedrick cut in.

"And some animal was able to damage it still," Bellamy glanced at him, "It doesn't hurt putting more protection on there."

"And where do you suggest we get this metal from?" Cedrick spoke again.

"We still have some left at the drop ship," Abby said to Cedrick, "We could use wood to add strength to the fences. And…" she hesitated, "we could take supplies from Mount Weather. They don't need them anymore."

There were murmurs of agreement from around the table. "Ok, I will get started tomorrow," Cedrick nodded and scribbled something down on the paper he had in front of him, "I need more people."

"I'll assign you some," Kane nodded.

"We need more than just that though," Bellamy spoke up again, "We should train our people to fight. The guards all have combat training. Not enough to hold up against a grounder one on one, but maybe enough to hold one off until help can arrive. Especially for those who have to travel outside the gates. The hunters, those who go on supply runs, the workers for the fence. They need to be able to defend themselves."

"Can you two set to start arranging that?" Abby asked Bellamy and David, "Just the essential people first. But with the attack on John and Miller on Friday, I don't want to wait much longer." John, an old hunting simulation enthusiast from the Ark, and David's son had been out on a hunt a few days earlier and had accidentally run into some grounders. There had been a scuffle, John had been injured, but both parties had backed off before anything serious happened. Still, if things had gone just a little differently, things could have gone bad. The week before some of the foragers had gotten shot at with arrows and there were signs that the whole camp was being watched.

Bellamy nodded to Abby. David spoke up, "Of course, and I've been thinking…." He glanced at Cedrick who nodded, "Maybe we should think about melting down metal to make bullets. It wouldn't be hard to make casts and we have scrap metal that isn't good for anything else. It might be a good idea to have a source of ammo."

No one spoke for a moment, as if agreeing to this really meant they were really going to be at war with the grounders. Eventually Abby nodded, "We can use the guns to hunt, more ammo will help us survive no matter what happens." Sonya frowned, but didn't say anything.

"That's settled then," Abby nodded. The conversation moved onto supplied for the winter, food, clothing, and warmth. Then patrol schedules. Then housing. After it was all done, they had been there 3 hours and it was dark out. Everyone was probably sitting down to dinner. "See you all this time next week," she glanced at him, "Bellamy, a word please." Bellamy wanted to talk to her about the fence so it worked fine for him. "So?"

"Probably just an animal," he told her, "We should be fine with the extra reinforcements, but anyone who goes outside the fence needs to be extra careful."

"_Probably_ just an animal?" Abby looked at him seriously.

"It's just weird that it picked _that_ specific location, where no one would notice it. And, Abby, you should have seen the amount of damage this thing inflicted," he murmured.

She looked away from him in thought, "So it's either someone out there who purposefully is trying to get at us, or it's an animal desperate enough to try to go through reinforced steel to get at us," she nodded, "And it's out there in the woods, either way," her voice was quiet and cold.

Realization made Bellamy freeze. _Clarke_, everything else went dark and all he could focus on was his panic, her face flashing through his mind. She was out there alone.

He couldn't look at Abby. Right now, he couldn't do much more than breathe. He just turned and walked away.

**Ok, I decided to turn it into a short story. :) Let me know what you think. These first few chapters are just set up. **


	3. Leaving

Bellamy headed straight to the bar, ignoring all the people who tried to get his attention. He didn't want to talk to anyone right now. He had avoided drinking excessively since he got back. When he did drink, at the insistence of his sister or friends, he kept it to a minimum. He figured since he was doing double time for him and Clarke, he couldn't really afford to get drunk every night. But just this once, he needed a drink. Or five.

He nodded to the bartender who immediately poured him a generous amount of moonshine, "On the house, Bellamy," the bartender mumbled. Bellamy didn't recognize him, but a lot of people knew him around the camp. He took a large swig, almost finishing it in one drink and took a steading breathe.

"Damn it, Clarke," he muttered. He winced, it was the first time he had heard her name out loud since it became clear to everyone she wasn't coming back. People seemed to avoid bringing her up to him. Was it that obvious how much he missed her? How much he worried about her?

He didn't think on it, just downed the rest of his drink and signaled for the bartender to pour him another. This one he finished as soon as the bartender finished filling the cup. The moonshine burned his throat and warmed his stomach. He didn't mind though, it gave him something else to think about and it would give him what he was really chasing- the numbness that would come when the alcohol started to set in.

He put back another. "Taking those kind of fast, huh?" a woman's voice sounded behind him. He turned to see Octavia pulling up a chair next to him.

"Not now, O," he shrugged her off. Octavia didn't respond, just asked the bartender for a drink of her own. She finished hers as quickly as he finished his, without even wincing.

She ordered one more, but didn't touch it. Instead, she peered down at it. "She'll come back, you know," she said quietly.

"You hate her, what do you care?" he frowned. Clarke was an issue they avoided talking about. Octavia just didn't understand. She had never had the weight of so many lives on her shoulders, she didn't know what that could require you to do.

Octavia looked at him earnestly, "I care about you."

He didn't respond, just finished his fourth drink. He could definitely feel the effects of his rapid shots setting in. Moonshine was definitely something you shouldn't underestimate.

"I care about you, B," she repeated, "And you care about her. For _only_ that reason, I want her to come back."

"Things are getting worse with the grounders, and there are animals out there- ones that we don't even know anything about, and winter is almost here," he said in a rush, "There is no way she can survive the winter alone." There, he said it, out loud.

"Then go get her," Octavia said simply. As if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

He shook his head, "She would never come back with me. I tried to convince her before." _I'm not enough,_ he thought to himself. The alcohol was definitely hitting him.

"Then make her see, and if not, drag her back here by her pretty blonde hair," she shrugged, "It's like an intervention." He gave her a look that made it clear he did not think that was a good idea. She sighed, "Maybe she just needs to see that someone _is_ there for her, no matter what. Maybe she just needs to know she really isn't in this alone," she murmured, more seriously, "You can convince her to come back, Bel, I know you can."

"Thanks O," he muttered, his words sounded weird. He frowned.

"Alright, now let's get you to your tent so you can get some sleep before you get sick. Like seriously, did you even eat anything?" she muttered as she helped him stand and led him to his tent.

…

Bellamy woke up early with a pounding headache. He didn't quite remember how he got to his tent, but he did remember his conversation with his sister. He shot up and started to throw supplies in his pack. There was no time to waste. Now that his mind was made up, he was going to get to her as quickly as possible. First stop he made was to Raven, asking her to keep an eye on the remaining 47 while he was gone. Then he went to see Miller, then Cedrick, then various other people he trusted to take care of the things he was leaving behind. He saw the sun move across the sky, making him more and more anxious to be gone.

He finished getting what supplies he could carry, then went to make his last stop. Abby.

She was in the medical bay, where she spent most her time. She had been working on training a few people to be nurses and eventually doctors. But she wasn't with them. In fact, she appeared to be waiting for him.

She sat at a makeshift desk, watching him as he approached her. "Bellamy," she said in greeting, but her voice held no warmth.

He started to tell her what he was going to do, but she cut him off, "You're going to get her, aren't you?"

He nodded, and she looked down at her hands, "When reports came that you were starting to make arrangements for an extended absence, that was the only explanation I could think of."

"I am leaving right away, everything should be in order. I will be back as soon as I can," he told her and started to turn to leave.

"Bellamy, make sure you come back, you hear," she said to his back, "We need you here. But…" she hesitated, "Bring my daughter back safe with you, if you can."

He glanced at her and nodded again. Then walked to the door. Right before he walked out of the bay, he heard her murmur, "May we meet again."


	4. Prey

**Hi, I changed the rating on this because 1. This chapter has a bit of violence. And 2. I don't want to be limited with where I take their story romantically in the future. **** I just wanted to make everyone aware before they kept reading! Thanks!**

Clarke awoke with a start. She didn't remember falling asleep. But, yet, as she peered up at the canopy above her, she saw sunlight shining through. She sat up, rubbing her eyes. She had wasted too much of the daylight already. With a quiet groan she stood up and gathered her things. It was short work, she didn't carry much with her nowadays.

She headed immediately to the river, she needed to get water for the day and she was thinking about just travelling along the river until she found shelter. She looked around her. Sometimes she still got so caught up in how magnificent Earth was. Everything was green, even the light filtering through the trees had a distinct green tinge. There was nothing like that on the Ark.

A twig snapped behind her. Clarke spun on her heel. A man stood just beyond the trees. Staring at her. Without thinking, she reached for her gun. But when she looked up, he was gone.

Her heart was pounding so hard in her chest, she could hear the blood roaring in her ears. She tried to steady it, looking around. There was no sign of the man, no sign that anyone was ever there at all. That didn't mean much, though. Grounders could travel in the trees. She looked up, slowly moving from where she was rooted. Hoping to try to spot something out of place. She didn't see anything. Absolutely nothing.

There was no way she had imagined that man. She still remembered what he was wearing. A patchwork fur coat of a Grounder. She took a deep breath, again trying to still her hear, but to no avail. Slowly, she started to make her way down to the river, constantly searching her surroundings for threats. The forest was the Grounders territory. She would have a better chance on open land.

_Maybe they don't want any trouble_, she thought to her herself. She didn't know the current status of the truce, it may be intact. Why else wouldn't they attack her? She started to walk faster when she heard the bubbling of the river in the distance. She was anxious to get there. Every noise, every rustle of the wind or flutter of a bird made her tense.

She burst into the clearing that cradled the small river. Then she waited. Clarke half expected a spear to be thrown at her, but nothing happened. All was quiet.

She stayed that way, not moving, just searching the tree line for what felt like hours. Long enough for her to be sure that if someone had been there, they didn't want trouble. For now.

Eventually, she turned away and started to fill up her canteen. She squinted her eyes as she looked up above her. The sun was almost half way across the overcast sky. Clarke frowned. So much of her day wasted.

She needed to find shelter, then food. Every day now was about survival. In some ways, she liked it like that. It didn't give her much time to think of the things she did, the people she hurt. Or massacred. She shook the thought away and concentrated at the task at hand. Again, she glanced at the trees, just to make sure no one was there. She stood, satisfied that no one was going to bother her right now.

Slowly, she started to make her way upstream. She headed towards Mount Weather, she wanted to be close to it, always able to see it to remind herself what she had done. Those she had hurt. Someday, she hoped to be able to return. To honor the dead in any way she could, even if that meant burning the whole place to the ground.

Her eyes scanned her surroundings, something she had learned to do instinctively since landing on Earth, but especially since she had set out on her own. There were too many dangers waiting to take a person unawares. This time she looked for more. Maybe something she could potentially hunt, or a sign of somewhere that she could take shelter in for the winter.

Two hours later, and she still had found nothing more than a handful of roots and edible plants that would serve as her dinner for the night. She couldn't believe how much she missed meat. _Real_ meat. Not the puny fish she managed to catch.

She blew out a frustrated breath and went to break in the shade of the trees. Not that she needed shade from the sun. The weather was almost cold enough to see her breathe as she labored across the sandy river bed. As she plopped down and opened a canteen, that's when she saw it. Across the river, through just a sliver of a break in the trees was a small opening to what looked like a little building.

Immediately, she shot up and ran across the river. She was lucky that it was in this spot, a shallow area that wasn't deep enough for any large water creatures to swim through. She couldn't stop herself. Couldn't make herself be cautious. She ran. She ran right through the woods until she stood in front of the small building.

It was old. Really old, and practically falling apart. Clarke believed it was probably from before the Earth became a nuclear wasteland. The building was small, but she didn't need much room. Quietly, she pushed open the door, but didn't go inside. She just peered in, making sure she wasn't disturbing anything hiding inside. But all was quiet. Cautiously, she took a step inside. It took a moment for her eyes to adjust to the darkness. It smelled like mildew. The building had obviously once been living quarters of some sort. It reminded her unnervingly like the small cabins from the Ark. On one side was a bed with a long rotted mattress, next to it was a dresser that had managed to weather the longtime of un-use pretty well. On the other side of the room was a small kitchen, a table with three chairs, one of which was broken. Clarke felt herself smile in what felt like years. She could survive here through the winter. She could do this. She just had to fix the windows and check the condition of the roof (hopefully the sagging she had noticed was something she could repair).

Clarke set down her pack then headed to one of the shuttered windows, pulling up the rusted shutters to let in a little light.

A dark figure ran through the trees just outside the window.

Clarke froze for just a moment. Then ran to where she had set her pack for her gun. Her hand out stretched to grab hold of it. But before she could reach it, a large dirty hand wrapped around her wrist and yanked her through the cabin door into the overcast sun. She couldn't help the scream that welled up in her throat.

The man threw her to the ground. Clarke immediately scrambled to her feet, reaching for the knife she kept at her waist.

"Clarke of the Sky People," the man growled, "it surprises me to find you here, so far from home."

The man was large, and he held a sword longer than her arm. She knew she was out matched. Her mind scrambled for a plan. She could run, but he was a Grounder. He wouldn't have a problem catching her in the woods. And she couldn't run forever. She had to get to her gun in the cabin.

"Come here," he muttered, "I won't hurt you. I would just like a taste of what had our Commander so enthralled with you," he leered at her.

She felt a cold sweat break out across her skin. _Don't let him see you are afraid_, she chanted to herself, _don't show weakness. You are strong._

"You want to see? Well, come here and find out," she spat at him. Immediately, he lunged for her. But she was ready. She clumsily side stepped away from his sword and slashed with her knife. Her blade cut deep into his arm in the process. But it still got her where she wanted to be. The path to the door was clear. She ran. She needed her gun.

He was faster than she expected. And suddenly she was yanked back by her hair. She felt herself shout in pain as her feet went out from under her and he dragged her back to him. He leaned down to where she knelt, pinning the arm that held the knife behind her back while still painfully holding her hair with the other.

"Do you know how many of my brothers died because of your people?" he growled against her eat, spit hitting her cheek as he spoke fiercely against her. "My people were the ones you slaughtered with your hell fire. My people were the ones you attacked in cold blood. And the Commander just forgave all of it because of golden hair and a nice ti-"

Clarke threw an elbow back into his groin, cutting him off and tried to pull away in the second that he loosened his grip. She landed on her hands and knees, scrambling away from him. A hard kick to her stomach sent her flying onto her back. All the breath was instantly pushed out of her body and she froze. She couldn't move, just sat there trying to pull air back into her chest. The man threw himself on her, immediately throwing a punch straight into her cheek.

"This will not be a quick death," he glared down at her as she tried to remember what she was supposed to do, how she was supposed to breathe. She glanced over at her knife, just out of her reach. "None of this will be pleasant for you," he continued talking to her then landed another punch in the same spot he hit the first time. She saw spots and her mind spinned. His eyes roamed her body, "But I promise, it will be for me." Her mind couldn't understand what he was saying, but she didn't think he meant to just hit her, or cut her. She threw her whole body against him, straining for the knife. But he slammed his fist down on her arm. There was a pop. She screamed with the pain.

He gripped the sides of her shirt and she could feel him starting to pull at the fabric. She ready herself to put all her strength into fighting him. She wouldn't go down without a fight.

_Bang! Bang, Bang!_ the sound made her ears ring. Her attacker fell to the side. His leg still draped across her stomach, but his whole body was limp. Then she noticed the blood pooling from a wound on his head. His eyes were wide open, but unseeing.

_That was a gunshot_, her mind slowly registered. She looked up. Bellamy.

She blinked. Bellamy was there, running towards her. Shouting something she couldn't hear. _Clarke_, he mouthed, the word little more than a whisper.

Then all of the sudden the world came crashing back around her. "Clarke!" Bellamy yelled as he fell to his knees next to her, "Clarke, are you alright?" He brushed the hair from her face.

She couldn't respond. She just stared at him. _Was he really here?_

"Clarke," Bellamy gently pulled her into his arms, touching her face, "Clarke, please talk to me! Are you alright?"

She blinked at him, and slowly nodded. She blinked again, "Bellamy," she took a shake breathe. She looked at the man next to her. Dead. The man who had been attacking her. "Oh my god. Bellamy. Oh my god," she felt her breathe speeding up.

He pulled her closer to him, so tight it almost hurt, but she didn't mind. "It's alright," he whispered, "You're alright. I'm here. I'm right here."

**I feel really good about the second half of this chapter, but I really struggled with the first half. I would love to hear some input from you guys, especially about my portrayals of Clarke and Bellamy. :) Please review. :)**


	5. Finding Her

Slowly, oh so slowly, Clarke's breathing stabilized and her world came into focus. Bellamy still held her, quietly saying her name or other nonsense to calm her. Gently, she pushed back from his chest. Clarke just looked at him. He watched her expectantly.

"Why are you here?" she asked firmly. The strength of her voice surprised even her.

He blinked in astonishment, "I came to find you."

Clarke stood up, refusing to look at the body of the man who attacked her. "I didn't ask you to do that," suddenly she was so angry. So angry at him for coming after her. She had asked him to stay behind, she had asked him to leave her alone. Why was he here?

"Everyone is worried about you Clarke, we need you back at camp," he said quietly, as if trying to calm an angry animal.

"I asked you to stay behind," she glared at him then turned and headed for the cabin.

Bellamy was hot on her heels, but then pulled up as she reached the door. "You have been through a lot right now Clarke, we will talk about this later," he said tightly, as if holding back anger of his own.

"Go home Bellamy," she shot over her shoulder then walked inside, slamming the rotting door.

"Not gonna happen," she heard him yell back at her through the door.

…

Bellamy dragged the body as far as he could manage. It must be close to a mile from where Clarke's cabin was. He didn't want it anywhere near her. If it wasn't for the fact that he didn't want to attract any predators to their new camp, he would have just left the body to rot, but instead he took the few hours to bury it deep in the ground. Then, he went back to the cabin to try to see if he could cover up any tracks or signs that the man had come this way. They didn't need any other Grounders coming looking for him and finding them here.

There wasn't much to cover up, at least not much that his untrained eye could see. But he hoped it was enough. By the time he headed back to the little cabin Clarke was living in, it was almost dark and he couldn't remember the last time he was this exhausted. The hard work had taken it out of him, of course, but he was used to hard labor. It was finding Clarke, like that, that had truly drained him.

She had looked so determined, so strong when he had found her. Bellamy honestly believed she would have found a way to win that fight, even without his help. Still, seeing that man hitting her, ready to kill her. Bellamy couldn't remember ever being that scared in his entire life. He also has never felt so relieved as when he held her in his arms, safe and whole, after he got her back. All he could think was, _she's safe, she's here_, over and over again in his head like a mantra.

Then that damn woman had gone and been mad at him. _Mad at him. After he saved her life_. He honestly couldn't believe it. He knew she'd been through a lot, but she was probably the only person in the entire planet that would be angry at someone for being around to save their lives. He blew out a frustrated sigh. The woman infuriated him. But yet, he couldn't wait to get back to the cabin to see her, safe and whole again, even if she was madder than hell at him.

He gathered all their stuff strewn around the ground by the cabin, then hurried up to the door, opening it slowly, as if he didn't want to startle her. "Clarke," he said to alert her that it was just him.

She glanced at him coolly, but didn't say anything. He didn't notice. His eyes were fixed on her face where a bruise had bloomed across her cheek and her eye was starting to blacken.

"Christ," he cursed and crossed the room to her in 3 large steps. He grabbed her chin in his fingers, angling her face so he could get a better look at it.

"It's nothing," she mumbled, "I'll be fine."

"It's not nothing," he growled. There was really nothing he could do, but he found he didn't want to move from her side, didn't want to stop touching her. It had been so long since he had gotten to see her, he found he needed the reassurance that she was right here. Gently, he pushed her hair behind her ear, to get a better look at the bruise that he could see clearly before.

"Bellamy," she whispered, "I am fine, really," but she didn't move away or brush him aside.

Bellamy didn't answer, just gently traced a finger over the bruise. Her breathe hitched and he pulled back immediately, "I am sorry, I didn't mean to hurt you," he said brusquely.

She shook her head, but didn't look at him, "You didn't hurt me," she cleared her throat, "But now that you are here, I need your help."

It was then that he noticed the way she cradled her shoulder, and the way the shoulder sat just a bit awkwardly.

"It's dislocated," she said in explanation, "I need you to pop it back into place."

He glared at her, "You must be in pain. Why didn't you say anything before?"

"You disappeared," she had the gall to look annoyed at him for that.

He let out a sigh of frustration, but came to kneel by her shoulder, "What do I need to do?" She quietly told him where to put his hands and how to push the shoulder back into place. She let out a strangled yell as the shoulder fell back into place with a sickening pop. Bellamy found himself hovering, unsure how to ease her pain. He felt so useless.

It took a moment for her breathing to return to normal, "It's alright, I'm ok," she said breathlessly, "Now, help me get my shirt off."

Bellamy blinked at her, "What?"

She looked at him, annoyed, "My shirt. It's covered in blood. I would like it off. I can't do it myself."

The thought of undressing Clarke had all of his blood rushing straight to his groin and he fought to keep his breathing normal, "Alright," he said gruffly. He reached for the bottom of her shirt, his fingertips brushing the skin of her waist. He knew he should pull back, but instead he let the back of his fingers run the length of her stomach as he gathered up the fabric. Bellamy was so focused on his own explosive response, he didn't hear her breathe catch or notice her unconsciously press herself into his hands. He glanced up at her as he reached her breasts. Her eyes were dark as she nodded to him. He kept his face impassive and hoped she couldn't see the hard length of his arousal through his pants as he tenderly pulled the shirt up to reveal a practical black bra. Bellamy couldn't remember every seeing anything so sexy, or ever being so turned on from the just the simple act of taking off a girls shirt. He helped get her uninjured arm out of the shirt, awkwardly pulled it over her head before gingerly moving it off her injured shoulder. She only hissed once in pain.

Bellamy couldn't help but think how beautifully she looked. He stopped to admire her. Her large breasts so plain to his view. It was all he could do not to grab her and crush her to him right then. The urge to feel her under his hands was so strong. Instead he ran a practical hand over her shoulder to make sure everything was ok, even that was almost too much for him. Clarke didn't say anything, just watched him as he moved around her. Her breathing shallow, probably from the pain.

Bellamy swallowed and forced himself to move away. "Do you have another shirt?" he asked, his voice sounded rough and tight.

She nodded, and motioned to her bag. He pulled out a dirty T-shirt. He put it back.

"Bell, that's the only one-" she started.

"You can wear mine," he mumbled and pulled out a clean shirt from his bag. Then turned to start the torture all over again. It wasn't fair that she was so close, he held her in his arms, and he still couldn't have her. His hard body was in physical pain with want.

She looked incredible in the firelight. She was thinner than before she left, but she still had the lush curves that constantly invaded his dreams. The flicker light cast deep shadows on her breasts. Her serious blue eyes stared at him so intently, scrutinizing his every move. He tried not to look as predatory as he felt.

He kneeled back next to her and pulled her injured arm, then her head and then her other arm through his shirt. It was easier since his shirt was so big on her small frame. He hesitated to pull the shirt over her magnificent breasts since he didn't doubt this was the last time he would ever get to see them like this. He selfishly waited just a moment, fumbling with the fabric, then hesitantly pulled it down. He rested his hand on her waist under his shirt. Unwilling to stop touching her, his riotous body demanded he keep his hands on her bare skin.

"Alright?" he asked, finally looking up at her.

Her blue eyes were so intense, he couldn't help but notice her lick her lips. Slowly, she brushed a curl away from his forehead, as if she couldn't stop herself from brushing her fingers across his skin. She nodded and took a deep breath, "I think so."

He pulled back then and rocked back on his heels, needing to put some space between them before he did anything stupid.

"I can manage the pants on my own," she murmured and he almost groaned at the thought of her struggling to get her pants past her generous hips.

"I'll set up the sleeping packs," he muttered, turning his body and the proof of her effect on him away from her gaze. Bellamy kept his back turned as he set up their beds, right next to each other. But he heard her, the rustle of the fabric as it hit the ground. It was damned distracting. So, instead he just tried to concentrate on something else, _anything_ else.

"Ok," she said to him, her voice clear and unaffected, "I'm done, want some dinner?" And just like that she dished him up what looked like roots or some sort of vegetable and acted as if nothing happened. Wordlessly, he pulled some smoked meat out of his pack for them to share. The last of what he had brought with him from the camp a week ago.

They ate in silence, Clarke didn't look at him. She practically pretended he wasn't even there, but he drank in the sight of her. Her gold hair falling around her face. Her full lips. He was so relieved she was safe. He hated to see the bruises marring her face, but she was alive and amazing as ever, so for that he was thankful.

Without another word, Clarke lay down on her bed roll and fell asleep. But Bellamy sat awake, just listening to her softly breathe in out, wondering where they would go from here.

**Reviews are greatly appreciated. :)**


	6. Together

**Ok, I am SO SO sorry it took me so long to get this up. I had a ton of work and school and bday stuff going on. And I had THE WORST writers block ever. I hope you all like this chapter! I reread it like 15 times, but I am pretty sure my brain is fried and I don't have a beta. So, please give feedback!**

Clarke glared at Bellamy as he slept. She sat in the corner, with her knees tucked to her chest. Her emotions were so tumultuous right now, she couldn't exactly pinpoint how she should be feeling. She was so happy at seeing Bellamy, knowing he was alright and so close. Being able to breathe him in as he helped her with her shoulder last night had brought her way more pleasure than it should have. And that was something she filed away to think about for later.

More prominently, for right now, at least, she was angry. So angry at him for completely ignoring her when she asked for space. And she was even angrier at him for leaving everyone at Camp Jaha behind. She was relying on him to take care of them, even when she couldn't. That was what made her decision for her.

She stood up from where she sat, careful not to jostle her shoulder too much. She nudged Bellamy with her foot, "Get up," she said shortly.

His eyes snapped open with a start and he let out a quiet gasp. Then frowned at her, "Yes, princess?"

She glared down at him, "It's time for you to go. You have responsibilities back at camp."

His face grew hard, "All of _my_ responsibilities are taken care of_. I_ made sure of that," he sat up, "I am not going anywhere without you."

"Yes, you are," she said firmly.

"You don't have any power here, princess, I'm not just going to follow your orders because you say so," he challenged, "Besides, how do you plan to survive out here with that shoulder?" he cocked his head and gave her the kind of smug smirk that infuriated her.

"I don't need you here, Bellamy. I don't _want_ you here," she hissed, trying to inflict pain.

His face was emotionless, "I don't care what you want, Clarke. I'm not going to just let you die out here." With that, he stood up and walked out the door. Leaving Clarke seething in his wake.

…

From there, they fell into a routine. In the mornings, they would wake up, Clarke would tell Bellamy to leave, Bellamy would tell Clarke to come back, one of them would leave angry. Then they would look for food in the morning, stock pile and reinforce the cabin in the afternoon (since it looked like they both would be here for the winter). They really didn't talk, or even interact more than necessary. Clarke was determined to make it as difficult for him to be around her as possible. If she didn't tell him how she planned for winter, he would believe he was on his own. Of course, that was a lie. Clarke would never let anything happen to Bellamy, but still.

Clarke knew he was angry at her. It was in the way he looked at her. She knew he would never hate her, but she believed that he was as close to it as he could get without truly crossing that line. Yet, he didn't say anything. Just calmly told her he wasn't going back without her. He barely spoke to her otherwise. It scared her, she felt like this Bellamy, this angry man with hard eyes, was a stranger to her.

It would be unbearable if it weren't for the times that he let that anger slip. Sometimes, when he didn't think she was paying attention, he would look at her like he used to- like he would follow her anywhere. And when she hissed in pain because she moved her shoulder wrong, he was always immediately by her side. And he always seemed to know what she was going to do next before she did it. She had forgotten how effortless it was with him. They barely spoke because of this dangerous impasse they were at, but also because they didn't _need_ to talk. Every move they made revolved around the other. Bellamy could mirror her every action when they were out hunting. They danced around each other while setting up for the night without a single thought. She couldn't remember ever having that with anyone else.

It had been three weeks when Clarke realized that she didn't want him to leave. That maybe, she had been wrong to leave him in the first place. She hadn't had nightmares since his arrival, something she hadn't noticed.

But this night she tossed and turned, unable to fall asleep. This night was the coldest they had experienced and she couldn't will herself to sleep. All she could do was think, think about Bellamy, his anger, the people they left behind, the people they killed on Mount Weather. It was all she could think about and every time she started to drift to sleep she would see the faces of the little boy she helped carry out of the mountain to bury. But this time, the boy talked.

"Why?" he asked in a quiet voice, "Why would you do this to us?" He asked her again and again until he was screaming at her "Why?! Why?! Why is their lives worth more than mine?!" All she could reply was "I'm sorry" over and over again.

"Clarke!" the boy yelled, "Clarke!" This time his voice sounded deeper.

"Clarke!" Clarke shot up with a gasp, coming within inches of Bellamy, his eyes filled with worry, "Clarke are you ok?" Bellamy asked, his voice quiet, but deep and strong.

She couldn't answer, all she could do was concentrate on her breathing. If she tried to speak, she knew she would break. Bellamy just watched her breathe in and out slowly for a moment. Then, wordlessly, he pulled back the layers of fur she used as blankets and slid in next her. He pulled her to his chest and laid down. They didn't speak. He didn't tell her it was going to be ok. He just held her until her breathing slowed and she calmed down enough to start to drift back to sleep in his warm embrace. The last thing she remembered before unconsciousness took her was Bellamy's voice whispering, "We will get through this, together."

…

The next morning Clarke woke up surrounded by warmth. Her half-awake mind burrowed in closer to the source of the heat, taking in a deep content breathe. _Bellamy_, she thought as she took in the familiar scent. Her eyes snapped open. Bellamy. Her cheek rested on his chest, his arms still around her waist. He was barely covered by the edge of her blankets (that she had unknowingly been hogging). She knew she should get up, get the day started, and tell him to go back. But she didn't. She stayed like that, counting the freckles that covered his nose and listened to him breathe in out, for a long time. He looked so relaxed, and, she realized, she didn't remember the last time she had seen him without all the burdens he carries every day.

She also realized last night was the first time in weeks she had, had a nightmare. That made her think about what other changes there had been since he arrived. Yes, having Bellamy there reminded her every day of what she had done, of what she had made him do. She hated to see the moments he would look in the direction of Mount Weather with pain in his eyes, knowing that she was the reason for that. Every night, there were things he did that reminded her of the people they left behind and that still caused her to feel shooting pain thinking of them and what she did to protect them. But, in those moments, Bellamy was always there to touch her arm or say her name and communicate without words, in the way only they could, that she wasn't alone. Last night, when he said that they would get through this together, he meant it. He was right there by her side the whole time, carrying more than his share, and she just hadn't realized it. And she needed to do the same for him. She couldn't let him bear all the burdens alone.

Also, she missed the people she left back at the camp. She hadn't asked Bellamy about them because she was scared of what he might say, how that might affect her. But still, sometimes, in those moments he was feeling generous, he would mention something about them in passing. "Octavia and Lincoln are training all the members of the guard" "I think Miller and Monty are going to move in together, finally" "You're mom has the medical bay up and running. She is doing great". Even though he made it sound like idle conversation, she knew he was trying to tell her they were all doing alright, creating a life. Then his walls would come back up before she could muster the courage to ask him more. And she wanted to know more. More than that, she wanted to see for herself how they were doing. She _missed_ them. Something she hadn't realized the full extent of until Bellamy came crashing back into her life.

That's what made the decision for her. She would go back.

Not yet though, not until she had a little bit more time out here with Bellamy. She wanted just a little time to try to heal the damage she had done to the friendship. She just hoped it wasn't too late.

Bellamy's eyes opened and for a moment he just looked back at her without saying a word.

Then he smirked, "You like watching me sleep, princess?"

"Shut up," she muttered and rolled out of bed.

…

Bellamy looked up at the sun, dipping close to the horizon. They had spent most of the day patching the roof of Clarke's little cabin and had let the day slip away from them.

"We need to check the snares before it gets dark," he glanced over to where Clarke was finishing up the last of their make-shift patches. She looked over at the sun then nodded.

"If we hurry, we will have time to check all of them," she said as he climbed down from the roof. He turned and watched her follow, not denying himself the view.

The closest of the snares were a solid half hour walk, they couldn't be too close to the cabin or they would scare off the animals. Also, dead animals on snares tended to attract predators and that was the last thing they needed sulking around their camp.

"I think I might cry if even one snare has a rabbit in it," Clarke said, her tone unconventionally conversational.

He raised an eyebrow at her, surprised at her sudden desire to talk to him. But he wasn't going to turn it down. "Imagine if there is two," he gave a little half smile.

"Tonight we feast!" she joked as they rounded the tree that hid their first snare. There was no rabbit, but instead a squirrel. Good enough for them. They still had some deer meat from a week ago, but they didn't have a way to smoke the meat yet, so it had spoiled.

They checked a few more snares with no luck. "Tomorrow, we will go out on a hunt again. I think we should also start making a hut to smoke the meat in," Bellamy said seriously. He picked up their pace, it was full dusk now and soon it would be hard to find their way back to the cabin.

"Yeah, I drew ou-" Clarke stopped short as they came into view of their final snare. Around the carcass of a small boar, were three large cats. He wasn't sure what they were. They looked similar to the pictures of mountain lions they were shown back on the Ark, but a little smaller and stockier and their fur a little longer. Both Bellamy and Clarke froze. They looked at each other. The cats hadn't noticed them. Clarke's eyes were wide, but incredibly calm. She brought a finger to her lips to show him to be quiet and motioned for them to leave, slowly.

He let her lead, he wanted to be in between her and the large cats. He was amazed at how quiet she was, her footsteps didn't make a sound. He followed her example, but still flinched when his feet hit the leaves with quiet rustling. Their movements were slow, agonizingly, but they were almost out of sight when Bellamy's foot slid on a patch of mud. Instinctively, he reached out for a tree. The branch broke with a resounding snap.

Both Bellamy's and Clarke's eye flew to the cats. All were looking straight at them.

"Fuck," Clarke muttered and tightened her grip and her grounder machete (her gun had run out of bullets weeks ago). The cats' teeth were long, almost protruding under their lips. One's face was molted from radiation, half of its lips was missing, exposing a long row of very sharp teeth. As one, they started moving, disappearing into the underbrush.

"Are they leaving?" Bellamy asked, his heart pounding in his chest.

"I don't think so," she muttered back.

Bellamy readied his gun, he didn't have much ammo left, there hadn't been much to spare at the camp.

A rustle sounded to their left, both turned to watch. As they turned something came tearing out of the underbrush on their right. Bellamy turned just in time to fire a shot. A loud scream split the air. The animal turned and disappeared again. The scream sounded so human, Bellamy glanced at Clarke to check she was alright. Her eyes were wide and her breathe was short, but she looked fine.

"We need to get back to the cabin, barricade ourselves in," she told him.

He nodded, and without talking they started to move. But they only got a few steps. A cat flew out of a tree, landing directly on Bellamy. He acted without thinking. Shoving his gun into its snapping jaws, its claws dug deep into his arm and shoulder. He heard Clarke's scream and struggled to push the cat off of him, just enough so he could move the gun for a shot. But it was strong, much stronger than him. He felt a pain bloom on his chest, and it registered in his mind that he was probably hurt. But all his attention was on Clarke and getting to her. She didn't even have a gun.

Then there was blood, everywhere. The cat pulled back with a weak snarl, then slumped all its weight on Bellamy's chest. He vaguely registered that the blood, mostly, wasn't his. Still his focus was on getting to Clarke. He shoved the cat off of him, felt someone helping him from the other side. As soon as it was gone, he looked up. Clarke stood there, her shirt stained with blood, cradling her hurt shoulder. But still standing. Holding a bloody machete.

She sank to her knees next to him, "Are you alright?" she whispered urgently.

"I- I don't know," he said honestly. He didn't feel any pain, but he knew enough about the human body to know that adrenaline could do incredible things. "I think so," he muttered, taking inventory of her body as she did the same for him. He could see a mean gash on her thigh, but otherwise she looked ok.

"Our healers will take care of your friend," a voice sounded behind Clarke. Immediately, Bellamy tensed, and reached for his gun.

Behind Clarke stood 7, no 8, grounders in full battle regalia. All painted faces and armed with spears or bow and arrows. None looked friendly.

Clarke stared at him for a long time before saying anything, "No, thank you. I will take him back to our camp and tend to him myself."

Bellamy watched as the man who stood closest to them looked at the woman to his right, who shook her head.

"No," he said, his voice even, but firm, "You may tend your friend's wounds at our camp, Clarke of the sky people. Our Commander would like to see you."

Clarke and Bellamy looked at each other before Clarke murmured the word, "Together."

**Please please please review. How am I doing on Clarke and Bellamy? How was the second half? What would you like to see more of? Thanks! And HUGE shout-out to my followers, you guys are what keep me going. 3**


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